Illumielle
by Breviary-Rose
Summary: Quite enamored with the burgeoning hedonism of the 1970s era, Loki runs his own night club. He revels in encouraging mischief through sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. Jane is a homeless Colombia student with nowhere else to go than Club Illumielle. Jane's life is further complicated when she seems to have drawn Loki's attention. And he's bent on thoroughly corrupting Jane. -THOR AU
1. Impunitus

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**_illumielle_ ; **_"It's not just that she makes him a better person–and she does–but he changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her. He makes her question her life, beliefs. He's either the best thing for her . . . or the worst."_

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**1. ****_impunitus: _**unpunished, unrestrained, safe.

_Entry No. 112_

_There is some comfort to having no friends. I knew that this would be hard upon applying for Colombia two  
years ago. My folks implored me to sign up for nursing school, but they don't see the wonder I do in the  
stars. It's majestic and uncharted. We've only just set foot on the moon, and I find that increasingly exciting!  
Dad said that he wouldn't help me through this. Good. I don't need his money. _

_That's what the scholarship was for that I received for being the first female enrolled in classes here.  
All of the boys—for they are certainly no men—in my classes all say that I'm only here because the school  
wanted to avoid future lawsuits from women being denied based off of their sex._

_I'm okay with that. Why? Because this is my chance to prove the entire university wrong.  
I'm no symbol or beacon of hope for my sex, but I can be a stepping stone.  
I've never been so successful in my studies in all my years of matriculation as I am today, but lately  
I feel increasingly more isolated. Mother suggests that I search for a husband while I'm surrounded by countless  
men here. I always politely remind her that I do not ever want to marry, let alone follow her American Dream.  
_

_This entry is already too long, but this journal is all I have right now. Initially, I know that the purpose of these pages were  
to document my journey at Colombia University through the eyes of a woman, but I can't help but feel defeated outside  
of my own do I feel like this? Why is being alone both comforting, yet terrifying?_

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"I'm trying to say_—_"

_"Jane! You shut the fuck up! I've had it with you! You're no man! You're no scientist! You're nothing but an unbalanced, liberal, and irresponsible _girl_! You don't belong at Colombia whatsoever!"_ a loud and old masculine voice shouted from the other line of the pay phone.

"Daddy! How can you talk to me like that? I'm still your daughter!" the twenty-year-old university student argued in a low, but firm voice. Since childbirth, Jane had been conditioned to respect her father, the provider. In a flash, she was suddenly ten again staring at his fist accelerating quickly toward her cheek. A low groan dwelled in her throat as she shook her head to keep the familiar memory in the back of her mind.

_"You listen here, young missy! You'll never be my daughter! I didn't even want you! I wanted a boy! I wanted a pal to play some ball with! Instead, the agency dropped you off at your damn mother's insistence!" _the voice howled over the line.

A tear dropped from the girl's eyes. Those words had haunted her since she could coherently think as a young child. Her heart sat heavy against her chest. She paused briefly to shove away the antagonizing words and emotions they pulled from her. In a quick effort to remain focused, she wiped away the single droplet coursing down her cheek.

"Daddy, no matter what you say, I won't come home. Not ever! Im going to make you see things the hard way! I'm going to graduate and become so successful that you'll eat your own foot! I know you've never seen me as more than a burden to your household, but you're my dad! I don't care if your DNA doesn't flow through my veins! You can't get rid of me! You_—"_

The call ended. Her money ran out. That was the last of her wages before the next time she got paid by the restaurant. Her belly rumbled and she instantly rubbed the area with a soft and shaking hand.

Jane sadly lifted the phone from her ear and dropped it on the receiver. Immediately, she sunk against the narrow space and leaned her head against the phone as her fingertips etched the shape of the black phone quietly. Her brown eyes stared at the device aimlessly.

A knock brought her out of her short trance. "Yes, I'm sorry," the student spoke lowly. Grabbing her cloth backpack, she ran her arms through both shoulder straps and allowed the heavy bag to nudge against the small of her back. She winced upon its impact, but slid the wooden door open, seeing an older woman with long, black hair.

The woman instantly offered Jane a light grin, "Don't worry about it!"

Jane stepped out of the booth and moved back out to the restaurant. Her eyes peered around the small diner. There were a few regulars, but at this time of night, there were few people intending for good things to happen. Usually, she didn't work as late as she did tonight. But she needed enough to make the phone call to her mother to inform her that she was indeed still alive.

But her father had answered.

And she hadn't been prepared for that.

On a scale of one to ten of being supportive, her parents would be graded at a negative twenty. Jane Foster had excelled during high school. Previously, she lived in New Mexico. Two years ago, she'd been given a full scholarship to Colombia University. It had been two years until tonight that she had even heard from her father.

Nobody took her seriously. Not at home. Not in the classroom. Not even at her lousy-paying job. Everyone looked down upon her, and she'd had enough.

Luck had been something she'd expired long ago. At first, the university gifted her with a dingy, run-down dorm room from the oldest building of the dormitories. She hadn't minded. That was more than she expected to have been given.

However, six months ago, she was told to vacate that building due to renovations for the summer. Two days later, they tore it down to build more room for incoming men.

She was a homeless student at Colombia University: one of the highest-rated schools in the world. Still, she was acing all of her classes. During the week, she slept in the library. A female librarian allowed her to sneak in right as they were closing. The young girl was thankful. She knew that it was a risk that the woman didn't need to have.

Once again, Jane was a liability unintentionally.

The girl swallowed, a deep-set lingering fear bitterly settling over her bones.

The night sat heavy outside. A few bursts of people looking for trouble passed by. Even in the diner, there were a few people pulling out supplies that looked questionable. No one paid anyone here a sparing thought.

If you stayed out of other's ways, they'd leave you alone, too.

Jane stood helplessly under the threshold of the small hallway leading to the bathrooms and phones. The neon-glittering sign captured her attention as she peered up. The corners of her mouth still tasted like the fries she'd stolen from the back, salted and flavored precisely as she'd come to enjoy.

The semester began two months ago. It was the middle of November. Snow was everywhere beyond the glass windows, and, despite there being a great heater in the diner, the cold still seeped through the door as people would enter.

The young adult helplessly sought out a booth near the hallway and dropped her bag on the table loudly, stealing the attention of a few of the men around her. She mumbled a low apology, and picks at one of the few buttons on the outside of the bag.

A hand slid around her shoulder, causing her to spring up quickly, turning around to see the same woman. Jane's breathing was erratic, fast.

"Let's go," the dark-haired woman said.

The student lifted her brow, "Excuse me?"

A playful smile cut through the lady's pretty features, "I come here every other day. You're always here. You're homeless, right?"

The curly-haired brunette glanced away bashfully, "I wouldn't say that I'm homeless." Taking a second, she inhaled deeply and boldly replied, "Besides, it's none of your business anyway."

The comment pried a laugh from deep within the other woman's chest. "Of course it is. Do you know how innocent you look among the likes of men like those in here? You can stay at my place until you get settled."

"Thank you," Jane politely said, "but, I don't think that would be wise."

The woman began emptying out her pockets and the items in her purse hanging at her side. After, she shook her bag upside down over the table and pulled her pockets inside out. "I have no intentions of hurting you. No weapons or drugs. I'm clean. You can trust me. My name is Darcy."

"It's nice to make your acquaintance; however, I won't be a freeloader."

Darcy collected her belongings and shoved everything back where they belonged. Her dark brows rose as she sighed, "You're a student, right? I always see you with textbooks or whatever. Like, you can totally crash at my place. It's safe, and during the day, it's quiet. You'll be well fed and a lot happier than you appear to be here. Can you dig it?"

She didn't know why she did, but she replied, "Okay." Jane guessed that the sound of a nice meal did the trick.

Darcy shoved a loose strand behind her and smiled, "Great. Where do you go to school? It's rare for our gender to study beyond nursing school."

Uncomfortably, Jane managed to answer methodically, her arms reaching for her bag. "Colombia University."

Darcy slapped Jane's arm gently, "Far out! You must be Jane Foster! I remember reading about you in the paper. A lot of people think you're a women's rights activist!"

That's when Jane chuckled, "I'm nobody that important. I promise. And I do partake in a few rallies where my studies allow, but I'm, again, nobody of import."

"So, you're like the first and only female student there, right?"

Jane nodded as she pulled at the sleeves of her tattered brown coat. Her jacket wasn't all that helpful at keeping her warm, but she was still better off than others in her position.

Out of nowhere, Darcy idly mentioned, "You have wild hair."

The statement both unnerved her and amused her. Jane tugged at the ends a bit before saying, "It's always been like this. Growing up, my folks never allowed me to do much with it except braid it. Once I got to high school, I was sort of given more freedoms, but I was still made fun of a lot."

"How old are those glasses? They, like, consume your entire face!"

Jane didn't know how else to react than to just laugh, so the smooth sounds passed through her lips in a quick fashion, "They're about four years old. My vision isn't really that bad, but I don't have any safe place to store them, so I just wear them so they don't get scratched."

Darcy led the younger woman through many busy streets. The moon consumed the sky in a large display surrounded by bright stars. As they glistened, Jane closed her eyes and envisioned what secrets they held. Darcy paused to glance up and down a secluded street and grabbed Jane's hand.

They both ran across the street, and Darcy began to laugh, waving to a few people they passed by.

"We're just about there. Once we reach my place, I want you to take a bath, shave your legs if you'd like, and change into the outfit I'll lend to you. I have some business to take care of first, so kill about an hour, kay?" Darcy informed her, still holding onto Jane's smaller hand.

Around the corner, a steady buzz shifting through the sidewalk reverberated up to Jane's knees. Sounds of laughter, shouting, and moaning could be heard faintly as they both approached the corner. An uneasy, sinking weight rested in her belly. Jane swallowed as Darcy led her through the busy pavement, growing closer to what. seemed like a nightclub.

"Where are we going?" she stammered out quickly.

"You don't know? This place is revered around all walks of life! I'm surprised to see anyone that doesn't recognize it," the raven-haired woman commented.

Jane tensed. "Well, would you care to enlighten me?"

Darcy halted just before approaching the bouncer, clutching at Jane's hands. "This is Club Illumielle," Darcy shouted over the roaring bass. Within, heavy guitar music could be heard. When she heard Jane cough, she turned around and pulled her behind.

The bouncer didn't even look at Jane; instead, he eyed Darcy up and down disgustingly as he moved the velvet rope. Jane scrunched her face at the man adorned in all black: a mixture of leather and netting. He apparently didn't even notice her.

Her eyes needed to adjust to the thick, dense darkness that enveloped her all too quickly. Her heart surged, the pace building at an unusual rate. Jane tightened her hold over Darcy's hand.

The woman snaked them both through the crowd to a set of stairs guarded by another bouncer. Without thought this man also let her pass. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek as she passed him in an unnatural rush.

Jane instantly swallowed down the unnerving rioting her instincts was doing. Her bones felt tight, immobile as she started up the steps one by was not quite a known emotion for Jane, but she knew she should have at least been weary of this woman.

All too easily, Jane was now in danger, at least by the looks of the men in the corner that she watched as they snorted up white powered through their noses. Jane pried her head away from the frightening sight as they rounded the corner, approaching an elevator.

Darcy let go of Jane to press the number nineteen: the highest floor of the building.

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Jane sank into the retro style bath tub, the water line moving up to just below her nose. The noise from the club below was drowned out. If she perked her ears up and focused, she was sure she could hear the sounds of a heated conversation from somewhere close, but secluded.

Instead of focusing on where she was, or the potential danger she could face while being here, Jane closed her eyes and thought of her upcoming test she was more than prepared for.

_Dark matter cannot be seen directly with telescopes; evidently it neither emits nor absorbs light or other electromagnetic radiation at any significant level. It is otherwise hypothesized to simply be matter that is not reactant to light,_ she recited inwardly as her faint movements underwater triggered tiny ripples to tickle her skin.

_Instead, the existence and properties of dark matter are inferred from its gravitational effects on visible matter, radiation, and the large-scale structure of the universe._

The following information was easy enough to remember. And since the term had only began a few months ago, the information was not as advanced as she'd like it to be.

_According to the Planck mission team, and based on the standard model of cosmology, the total mass–energy of the known universe contains 4.9% ordinary matter, 26.8% dark matter and 68.3% dark energy._

Jane had spent nearly all summer memorizing the textbooks for each of her six classes for this term. With nothing else to do except continuing to work in order to sleep at that diner all summer, Jane was easily the most well-off for the class.

She was thankful for the opportunity, too. Had she not dedicated so much time during the summer months, she would definitely be behind.

_Thus, dark matter is estimated to constitute 84.5% of the total matter in the universe, while dark energy plus dark matter constitute 95.1% of the total content of the universe._

The temperature of the water sank, cooling around her bum and warming her face. So much had happened in such a short time frame that Jane hadn't thought about how long it had really been since her last bath. Over the summer, she would wait for the rain and rub herself as best as she could with a bar of soap.

Her eyes flew open as she sat back up so that her neck rested gently against the porcelain height of the tub. She sighed peacefully as her hair floated around her in long tendrils irritably coiling around her arms and shoulders.

_Dark matter plays a central role in state-of-the-art modeling of cosmic structure formation and Galaxy formation and evolution and has measurable effects on the anisotropies observed in the cosmic microwave background. _

_All these lines of evidence suggest that galaxies, clusters of galaxies, and the universe as a whole contain far more matter than that which interacts with electromagnetic radiation._

Everyone in her class had had trouble understanding such basic material; yet, she, a female not really even supposed to be attending the institution, could grasp it so easily.

Her opinion of logic was rather simple.

Men did not have more advanced minds.

They were not ordained by any god in any culture.

They were simply blessed with a long history of standing and unrivaled power.

Jane was a great example that knowledge was not static to the race or sex.

In a quick motion, Jane sank underneath the water. Everything vanished. All she could listen to hear was the languid movements of the water. To her: a symphony. She slowly allowed her eyes to blink open a few times. The bath tub faced a window, and she could see the stars the window pane frame so distortedly that she thought they were bitterly close to her fingertips.

Her hand rose from within the water to reach at the glowing stars. Of course she didn't touch them, but this was something that she had done since she was a young girl. Back then, she was always called a dreamer.

Jane would fantasize about the worlds that existed beyond the exosphere. Sometimes, she felt like a trapped fish in the ocean. Not even the vast, deep ocean satisfied her curiosity and hunger to see those worlds.

But she didn't just want to see them; she wanted to understand them. That's why she was pursuing a degree and lifelong career in Astrophysics.

The droplets of water carelessly slithered back down her arm. Her hair floated all around her, even in front of her eyes. Under the water, she was truly invincible, and yet, still trapped.

Slowly, she sat up and broke through the water in a graceful, fluid motion.

Her back straightened and her hands pushed away the water in her face and continued moving over her long brown hair, her arms lifting sluggishly. Her eyes blinked once as she inhaled.

A door opened somewhere in the apartment. Jane shot out of the water, careful not to get too much water of the tiled floor. As quickly as she could manage, she reached for the large towel and wrapped it around herself.

"Where is she?" a man hollered from beyond the bathroom door before opening it without bothering to knock.

Jane gasped as she raised her foot off of the floor to self-consciously rub it against her leg. As she saw the tall man staring at her through quizzical brows, she bit her lip.

The dark-haired man turned back and pulled Darcy carefully into the bathroom, pointing to me, "Why did you bring her here?"

He lowered his hand at his side when he turned to her, ignoring me, a half-naked female, completely. She didn't know why she was so bothered by being ignored this one time of the numerous times daily.

Darcy moved to Jane's side quickly and winked at her, moving her attention back at the man. "Loki, you said we needed help during the day and week. She has nowhere else to go, so shut up and tell her she can stay."

His left eye twitched. "She _cannot_ stay here!"

Darcy began to pout playfully, "Oh, why not? Let this be your one good deed for your whole life."

Before he could reply, Jane scrunched her brows together and interrupted, deciding to be ignored for no longer, "Why is it that you couldn't knock? Clearly I was still using the bath."

The man stalked toward the young woman and threw his hand at her. Her left hand clutched the towel tightly so it would not fall, and her right hand caught his wrist. Her response was automatic. Her father had unconsciously taught her how to defend herself to an extent. She was no martial artist, but her instincts did control her muscles in handy ways.

His wrist tried to overpower her fleeting strength, but just when she was just about to give into the intolerable itch at her failing strength, he pulled his wrist out of her grasp, using his other hand to grab her delicately by her chin, his thumb nearly touching her bottom lip.

His blue, green, and gray enriched eyes claimed her attention, "I do not knock anywhere in this building. I _own_ the place."

"That doesn't negate the basic human right to privacy when nude, however. Since that's an issue under _your_ roof, I'll be happy to go back to where I came from. This was obviously a mistake. All I require is time to change back into my clothes, and I'll be gone."

Darcy moved between them, pushing him away from her, "Look, if she goes tonight, she'll have to walk out there in the dark alone. Are you gonna be _that_ king of guy, boss?"

The owner glared at me, despite her talking to him. His eyes were thunderous. He glanced down at his wrist before saying, "Clearly, she is more than capable of defending herself."

Darcy stomped, "Just give her one chance! You know we need help around here. I won't let her see the night staff. I want her away from that sort of stuff. She needs a place to start over, and that's what you've always said about everyone here: that Illumielle is the place of new beginnings. Cut the girl some slack."

The owner finally moved his head over to where Darcy stood, moving closely toward her. "I would be more inclined to do so had you not disturbed me in my office."

Darcy scoffed sarcastically, holding his attention. She rolled her fingers into fists and placed them on either hip, "How could you _ever_ handle three girls at once?"

The tall frizzy-haired man crossed his arms after smiling sardonically, "Had you been more preceptive, you'd have noted that there were _four_ ladies in there with me. You know that I thoroughly enjoy being worshiped."

He walked out of the room, and Darcy laughed as he did so. Eventually, she turned her attention back at the younger student. "The good news is that you get to stay. There's an extra room two apartments down if you get hired for real. If not, you can stay in my apartment." The woman moved closer and reached for Jane's face, "You'll be safe here, despite how everything seems."

Jane lifted a weary brow, moving away from Darcy altogether. She stared at the woman's choice in clothing for her: a pair of black hot pants and a fringed tuxedo shirt. Jane was unfamiliar with dressing so revealingly. For now, however, she would not bite the hands that feed her.

"How can I trust any of you?" she finally queried.

Darcy placed a hand on her shoulder carefully, "Don't trust anyone except me and Loki."

Jane chuckled, "I wouldn't trust him if he were the last man on earth."

Darcy shook her head, "You say that now, but he can be decent."

Jane held her gaze in a heated glare, "Your standards are illogical. Decent isn't good."

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_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

_*****All information about dark matter was brought over from wikipedia. That material is not mine. Also, the description was a part of the prompt, so not my words, but Startraveller776's!**__  
_

_**So, here is the first chapter of a prompt I picked up on Tumblr from Startraveller776! I've been planning it out for months, but I finally have a good start for it! I've very excited for this story to embark, finally! REVIEW? **_


	2. Novitas

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_**illumielle**_**;**_"It's not just that she makes him a better person–and she does–but he changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her. He makes her question her life, beliefs. He's either the best thing for her . . . or the worst."_

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**2.**_**Novitas**_**:****newness, novelty, strangeness.**

_Entry No. 113_

_Last night was a disaster. My clothes have gone missing (but I know who the culprit is).__  
__I'd really like to meet whoever controls fate or destiny so I could spit in their faces._  
_Darcy is tolerable enough. Don't catch my snide opinion of the woman for being ungrateful!_

_Darcy gave me a change of clean clothes, fed me, and allowed me to sleep in her bed__  
__while she worked downstairs at the club. I don't really know what she does for a place like this._  
_Something tells me that I don't want to know, either._

_Anyway, since today is a Saturday, I have time for myself. I've brushed up on all of the__  
__material for next week's test. I have no need of studying further, since I've basically_  
_learned the material. I'll need to start saving up for new textbooks for classes this coming_  
_spring! The opportunity to save money breeches so many levels of comprehension in my mind, too!_

_While this place is very frightening, I do think I'll like it here.__  
__So long as I keep an ignorant eye to the ongoings of the night, I'll be able_  
_to keep my warm bed, delicious meals, and potentially a steady-ish flow of money for school._

_My scholarship will eventually run out._

_Maybe this is my chance?_

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The club was a disaster.

Bottles of beer, paper rolled up for the use of whatever illegal activities, and toilet paper were all scattered across the dance floor and bar.

Jane sighed. Although she wasn't technically hired at the club, the girl figured she'd help out for compensation for a place to stay for the previous night.

The club was doused in black, silver, and white. Traditional colors all looked down upon in the crowds she grew up with.

The woman shoved her hands across her chest. Shoving her lips to the side, Jane settled her eyes upon a jukebox. The large machine sat bright in the dark corner.

Gasping, Jane rushed toward it, seeing a few cents abandoned in an ashtray near a table. Plucking the money from the dirty ashtray, Jane shoved the nickel into the machine before selecting a tune.

She settled her hands over the plastic dome protecting the pages of selections. _American Pie_ by Don McLean sat pretty at the top of the list it was already on. Jane chuckled.

The melody spoke to her in such a way most others left her feeling absent or unfazed.

As she punched in the selection, the tune lightly played. Instantly, she turned the volume knob to where she could hear it, but wouldn't disturb individuals just going to bed.

Reflecting inwardly, Jane mused that it was around seven in the morning.

The slow introduction to the song burst through the speakers of the machine. As the lyrics cued the singer to begin, Jane overpowered the vocals of the song. Jane Foster wasn't an accomplished singer by any means, but she knew she wasn't terrible. Her mother had often complimented her as a teenager.

Still, the song brought back the rare fond memories of her freshman year. Presently, the year was 1973. Since '71, this tune had conquered the rest as her favorite.

_"A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile, And I knew if I had my chance, That I could make those people dance, And maybe they'd be happy for a while,"_Jane followed as she reached for the broom near the bar.

Before beginning, Jane braided her wild hair in a side plait that appeased none of the current trends. Shrugging, Jane hopped toward the center of the dance floor and rushed her arms forward, collecting a few bottles and other pieces of trash in the quick, careless sweep.

Her hips swayed in such a way that her mother would appoint unladylike. Since she wasn't here, Jane found herself more lenient with how she acted.

Ever since Jane's eighth year, her folks had insisted that she lived a traditional, upper-middle class lifestyle.

She was taught how to play the flute.

Her mother hired a private dance instructor to teach her various styles of dance.

But most ostentatiously, Jane was a horrid tennis player.

During her time at the country club, she never quite grasps the required hand to eye coordination without harming herself or falling.

The song peeked in its infectious tempo, and Jane instantly picked up the pace in her sweeping. In less than thirty seconds, she had the whole dance floor swept and prepped for mopping.

_"Now do you believe in rock and roll, Can music save your mortal soul, and can you teach me how to dance real slow?"_she sang along, both tired and invigorated by simultaneously dancing and sweeping the floor.

Moving toward the sitting area, Jane moved a few tables out of the way so she could get a few bottles wedged against the wall. Matching the rhythm of the song, Jane continued to sweep up.

Upon the last quarter of the song, she was already nearly done with sweeping.

Rubbing her hands against each other, Jane scanned the area for table cleaner. She hopped behind the bar and began shifting a few bottles around neatly.

_"And as the flames climbed high into the night, To light the sacrificial rite, I saw Satan laughing with delight, The day the music died,"_Jane continued to sing. Her hands impatiently sought the cleaner with no luck.

Biting her lip, she allowed her hands to fall at her sides, her fingers unnaturally feeling the cold skin of her thigh.

The young woman was unused to being so exposed, but since her grungy clothes were nowhere to be found, Jane would continue to borrow Darcy's wardrobe.

That morning, Jane had studied the mass collection of clothes: all very revealing.

She owned twenty pairs of hot pants varying in patterns and colors.

She owned seven shirts supporting various bands Jane wasn't familiar with.

Darcy also had an extensive collection of dresses sporting exotic patterns of swirls and psychedelic squares.

Among the rest of her closet were twenty more fashionable blouses.

Jane didn't feel remorseful for claiming the longest pair of hot pants the waitress owned. Still, on the conservative student, the short pants fell just below her bum.

She was uncomfortable with the exposure of her legs.

But she was by herself. No one was there to judge her. So she supposed it didn't matter. Not really.

Bother.

She overanalyzed everything.

The student made a note to work on that.

Finally, the cleaner was in her position after she glanced behind the last sink all the way to the back.

The music faded away, so she put in another five cents and selected _My Maria_ by B.W. Stevenson. The song was slow to catch up as opposed to _American__Pie_.

The plaid men's lumberjack shirt Jane had on was a bit big and continuously got in her way, so she unbuttoned the lower four buttons and tied the ends together around her hips.

She pulled the sleeves up as she leaned over the tables to clean them up.

After another ten minutes, Jane stopped. She decided that she would prefer a small break. After all, there was no one to refuse her.

"This place isn't all too bad to clean. It just looked intimidating," she commentated as her slightly off vision took in the rest of the club. It was spacious, but not entirely too big.

Jane adjusted her toes in her sneakers. She probably looked a bit ridiculous mixing so many fashions together. Again, she sighed the thought away. She sat down on the steps to the dance floor and leaned back on her elbows, humming a vaguely familiar tune she couldn't name.

The library was closed on the weekends, which meant she couldn't go to the university. Normally, she worked a double shift at the diner on Saturdays. But since she probably was fired from there, she didn't think it was wise to go back just yet.

So what would she do with her time?

"I am unused to seeing this place appear so clean at this early hour on Saturday," someone said from the direction of the stairs.

Startled, Jane shot up from where she sat on the set of five steps, seeing the club owner.

From what she could see, he was topless. As he moved away from the staircase, she saw that he wore only a pair of tight leather pants. As he nonchalantly eased closer toward Jane, she saw that he was quite fit. As scrawny as he appeared last night with the large shirt over his form, she was surprised to see what lied beneath the fabric.

A blush colored her cheeks lightly. A faint wash of color settled over her features as she stared at his methodical approach.

She turned around and reached for the cleaner to deposit it back underneath the sink where she found it. Anything to give her the excuse to turn away in a socially logical way.

"I don't expect you to let me stay here, but I figured I could repay you somehow for allowing me to crash here for the night," was all she mumbled, still turned away from him.

The legs of the barstool directly behind her scratched against the clear floor loudly. She peeked over her shoulder and saw him cradling his head in his hands. "Give me something hard. Anything."

She scoffed, almost offended for one reason or another. "I don't drink."

He lifted his head and aloofly, he raised a curious brow through unreadable features, "How does that prohibit your ability to pour me something into a glass? Are you stupid?"

The young girl drew back her head, clearly offended. He didn't seem to care. He appeared bored as she gathered her wits, "I attend Colombia University! I'm the only woman enrolled. How am I stupid?"

He claimed her hand and moved it toward a four-inch high glass above her head. And then he guided her hand to set the glass down. Oddly, his fingers lingered over hers for another inappropriate moment before he coldly uttered, "Step one."

Glancing at the bottles of liquor, he shoved his hard eyes over Jane's, "Step two: pick one fucking bottle and pour it in this damned glass."

Grabbing a towel and wiping her hands in it, Jane pointedly took her time in trying to wash his touch away. Eventually, she fixed her features to a comfortable smug expression.

Her hands first clutched a bottle of tequila and she slowly turned, slamming the glass bottle onto the marble bar. The sound echoed through the vacant space.

She leaned in, the lid of the bottle nearly brushing her cheek. His eyes followed her in the movement, clearly unfazed by their proximity. Slowly, she pronounced each syllable devastating emphasis, "Pour it yourself."

She challenged him by raising and lowering her flat brow.

His mouth broke through the permanent frown over his face into a stupid and sickening grin, "You're trying to get me to notice you, yes?"

Jane straightened and laughed, "You're the one that invaded my privacy, so I have no reason to be nice to you."

"Were I you, I would heed a sense of caution. You do not wish to cross me. The plethora of contacts I have would rectify your smugness in a flash."

"I'm not crossing you. I'm simply standing up for myself. Others may 'worship' you, but I will certainly do no such thing. I don't believe in any gods. It restricts the mind in the field of science," Jane told him in a silly string of jumbled sentences.

While she was unnerved by the subtle threat, Jane wouldn't actively show her unease: especially in front of him.

"What is your name again? Ah, Jane Foster. You've ensnared my attention others would attest to being a horrendous deed," he uttered in a paced, calm manner. Jane held his empty stare quite easily. She wouldn't allow herself to be intimidated by the likes of men like him.

Barely, his eyes moved to either side, never leaving her gaze, either. He appeared to be studying her. "What do you believe in, then, if no gods take their place in your beliefs?"

Jane smiled. The answer came easy, "Science. Facts. Knowledge. Proof. Evidence. There are many things I believe in, but I don't think you'd understand."

"You believe the whole world to be organized in black and white? So many things cannot fit in your logic, Jane. You must know that," he told her calmly.

Jane confidently laughed. She leaned on her elbows against the low counter of the bar. "There are exceptions to everything. Science is simply a pursuit of finding all pieces of knowledge and occurrences reasonable understanding."

"You should know well that not even an entire race can find understanding to all things," he mused arrogantly.

Her flat brows moved together in a fluid motion, "Stop telling me what I should and should not know."

He mimicked her expression in an annoying display of mockery, "Why should I do that?"

She bit her lower lip and narrowed her average-sized brown eyes, "You're nothing to me. Not my father, nor my professors. Your opinion truly means nothing. Therefore, you don't have the right to tell me how I think. There is an ever-growing line for men who believe themselves to be above me."

He constructed his face to a distant state of dullness. "As your employer, I do hope you will amend that logic."

That caught her attention. She straightened and moved her head to the left alertly, but her eyes remained glued in his, "My employer? As of last night, you wanted me gone."

"Yes, but you've proven to satisfy my demands for brief, but meaningful conversation. _Therefore_, I have decided to hire you. There are only two apartments available. I'll gift you with the larger of the two: conveniently located adjacent to my own private quarters on the sixteenth floor."

Jane shook her head, "I'd prefer the one on the nineteenth floor next to Darcy's."

He smirked sadistically, "This is not up for discussion, Foster. Either you accept, or you gather your belongings and leave without compensation for your work this morning."

"I'd rather leave."

Loki smirked sadistically, "I'd rather you didn't. I think you'll prove most entertaining."

Jane moved back, caught off-guard. "I refuse to sleep with you if that's what you're thinking. I won't be partaking in anything illegal or disgusting."

"Although I am flattered that you would suggest such an . . . atrocious thought, no. I have other plans for you. Plans you'll find most rewarding."

Moving her head for emphasis, Jane rolled her eyes, "Are you going to tell me what those plans entail?"

He stood up quickly. "I'm Loki by the way. I recalled I never properly introduced myself."

Jane sighed, "I'll take that as a no. Just letting you know, school is my top priority. If working here becomes too strenuous or gets in my way of studying, I won't hesitate to quit."

"Dually noted," he said as he began heading toward the stairs.

Jane idly tapped her fingers against the hard surface of the bar. Glancing at where he sat, she realized he never poured himself a drink. She hesitantly studied his fleeting profile from behind.

She didn't know what possessed her to ask, "What would you like me to do?"

He casually waved his hand over his head and dictated, "I'll leave you to your own authority. It seems that you're more entertaining to me when you're berating yourself for not being productive."

Jane rushed out from the bar and ran to the stairs, clinging to the rail there. He had already reached the top of the stairs, "Excuse me? Why not put me to good use? I hate not being productive!"

He arrogantly peered over his pale, bare shoulder through his frizzy black hair, "Precisely."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Jane shrugged the backpack against the strained muscle underneath the layers of fabric. Her lungs felt stiff from the sting of the cold, frosty, and dry air she inhaled.

The walk had been a long one, but she finally made it to campus.

The student stood at the entrance of the university in awe. Two years after attending the institution, Jane found herself staring at the splendor that was this university.

Faintly, she smiled.

Today was the day before Thanksgiving.

After her conversation earlier that month between her father and her, Jane felt it was best to save her money this year and skip out on the rest of the holiday season.

She missed New Mexico, though.

The heat, the dry wind, and the desert were all familiar to her: more than the piling snow falling overhead.

Eventually, she glanced at the watch attached to her wrist. The metal was gold, but the artifact had lost its shine long ago.

She was ten minutes early.

That would mean she'd be standing in the cold—inevitably.

She rubbed her hands together and moved them to her mouth, breathing out slightly warm carbon dioxide. The campus was rich with makeshift places to sit, so Jane found a bench underneath a large tree, thinking it would allow her to get out from the snow impaling her like feathers against her face.

The angle the bench was structured at allowed her to monitor the entrance with ease.

Her feet swung loosely underneath the wooden bench, kicking the piled snow aimlessly.

She bit her lip. Her anticipation for this day had dwelled since the professor invited her. A week and a half ago, Professor Erik Selvig approached her after class and personally extended the invitation to meet him here at the campus and move to a local restaurant in order to celebrate.

She shook her head; Jane needed to be alert.

From a short distance, snow crumbled and crunched underneath someone's footsteps.

Jane stood up and rushed over to the entrance, seeing her professor in the flesh. Warmly, she smiled, "Happy Thanksgiving, professor."

His eyes widened briefly before he infectiously laughed, "Oh, my! Good morning, Jane! And a Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

Jane tightened the grip over her backpack straps and said, "Are you ready to go to the restaurant?"

"Of course," he politely spoke.

He led them around the corner out of the courtyard of the institution. For a few minutes, they walked the five blocks across town to their desired restaurant discussing course material about electromagnetism.

"I know that the electromagnetic force is the one responsible for practically all the phenomena one encounters in daily life above the nuclear scale, with the exception of gravity," Jane proudly mentioned after hearing the interesting theories about the subject he'd acquired over the years. Anything he said was usually intriguing.

"You're correct! Roughly speaking, all the forces involved in interactions between atoms can be explained by the electromagnetic force acting on the electrically charged atomic nuclei and electrons inside and around the atoms, together with how these particles carry momentum by their movement," Professor Selvig added, pausing a bit as he glanced over at her. "I'm surprised that you're as informed about the subject as you are. The subject is not offered to you for another year."

The small compliment caused her to smile. "I have spent a long time in the library lately."

"Truly, your ability to retain the information is both refreshing and a rarity. Sure, you've only had three classes under my instruction, but you possess exemplary potential already in a field open to only a few."

They approached their destination and Jane opened the door for the older man. He sent her a peculiar expression.

Jane instantly knew what he was thinking. Opening doors was more a masculine social action. Jane saw no signs of annoyance, but admiration. He interpreted her intentions accurately: respect.

He walked through the door and proceeded to announce they would require a table for two to the hostess. After a confirmation, the woman showed them to a table secluded in the back of the busy restaurant.

They took their seat and immediately ordered water. Neither needlessly chatted about the menu while they meandered through it.

Jane put an order in for garden salad with balsamic vinaigrette. She heard him order the sirloin steak at medium.

Finally, he spoke, "So, Miss Foster, I am sure you wondered why I invited you here."

Jane shook her head and shrugged politely, "I would rather not go back home for the week, and I appreciate your invitation."

He briefly nodded, saying, "Yes. But I had more advantageous intentions than substituting for your family." He watched her gather her full attention as he continued, "The years you have been my pupil have been the best I can remember in my entire line of instructing. You're remarkable and far beyond your years.

"People assume you're only here because I put in a good word. I did; however, your ability to outshine your male peers across the extensive list of advanced classes in your major is commendable. Everything you have and everywhere you will go is based off of your merit, hard-work, and intelligence alone."

Under his flattering words, she squirmed in her chair. "Thank you for saying that, sir."

"Which is why I'd like to hire you upon your graduation. I am up for tenure, and will be required to actively research in the field. I am allowed up to ten students for hire, but I require only one: you."

Jane choked awkwardly on her water, setting it down in a hasty motion, "Me?"

"You," he confirmed. He joined his hands together and rested on his elbows on the table. "It is my full intention to have you inherit my research when I retire. I have no family to speak of, nor do I have any other serious candidates. Your determination sets you apart from everyone else in your field of study, Jane. Please tell me you'll accept."

The young student gasped while she laughed. Tears blissfully stung her eyes as she nodded like an idiot. After realizing that she wasn't actually speaking, Jane uttered, "Of course I will!"

Together, they ate in a happy veil of peace while they ate their meals. For the first time in forever, Jane felt something aligned to kinship: a fondness to someone else in a familial way.

This man was more to her than a mentor: a friend, a fatherly figure, a family. He took her under his wing since she arrived at Colombia, and she respected him and admired him more than any man in her life.

For the first time in a while, she felt truly happy.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"You've been busy," Darcy spectated from her bed as Jane walked into the woman's apartment.

Jane smiled, "I have."

The other woman chuckled, sitting up eagerly, "Mind telling me about it?"

Jane closed the door and leaned on it, glancing up at the light in the center of the small apartment. "Things at university have been going well. And I feel that my life is finally coming along: especially since I'm no longer technically homeless."

Darcy snapped loudly, "That's right! We have to talk about your living arrangements, Jane."

The twenty-year old leaned away from the door, "Why?"

The ebony-haired woman smiled playfully, "You have your own apartment to go settle into. You've had it for over two weeks now. Why are you still here?"

Jane's head drew back, "Am I that much of a bother?"

Darcy shook her head ruefully, "It's just that, well, some of us have needs, too."

"Like? It's fine if you'd like to me leave your apartment. It's yours after all, but I'd like to know why."

"I met someone, and I think it'll, like, become really intense," Darcy revealed scandalously.

The revelation caused the student to chuckle, "You mean you want to . . . as many people say, get laid?"

Darcy's hands flew above her head, "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!"

There was a sudden dark, hollow feeling sinking in Jane's belly. Tilting her head to the side, she looked away from Darcy, "That means I'll have to move into a big apartment next to him."

Darcy got up and reached for her hand, "Hey, he's not that bad. Get to know him a bit, kay? Like, you'll totally see. Besides, he's never there. He has an office on the third floor that has its own suite, too. The sixteenth floor has two apartments, so you'll have the privacy you need in order to study."

Jane shrugged away the uneasy queasiness in her bones. "Right."

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_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

**_***Electromagnetism was not my material. Thank you, Wikipedia! _**

**_Two long chapters in under a day! I seriously need to stop ;p REVIEW? It helps me know people read! Please and thank you!_**


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